


Bad. Stupid. Good.

by Velace



Series: Random Moments [50]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 22:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: For most people, Christmas was a time to be with friends and family. For Emma, even when surrounded by the ones she loved, Christmas was when she felt most alone. It's been six years since she broke the curse, and she's tired of pretending, no longer content to deny herself the company of the two people who matter the most.





	Bad. Stupid. Good.

**Author's Note:**

> As evident by the summary, this should have been a Christmas fic- I think it's from 2015.

It was a bad idea. Her brain kept repeating it to her, so it had to be true. Emma had no intention of listening to it, but she could at least acknowledge the thought. Bad or good though, there was no choice and it was no use pretending otherwise. There were certain rules when it came to the holidays. Traditions were sacred. They could be altered certainly— hopefully. Would Regina mind? Probably, but would she turn her away? Doubtful. 

Walking up the path to 108 Mifflin, Emma took a deep breath. Should she have called? Maybe she should have. She definitely should have. If Regina answered the door and fireballed her off the step, Emma wouldn't blame her. She'd agreed all those years ago, and now she was there, uninvited; an intrusion.

It couldn't be helped. She'd caved. Given in. It was too exhausting, too upsetting. She was prepared for disappointment (kind of) but hopeful for something… more. 

Something good. 

She tried to find it somewhere else. 

Couldn't. 

Knew she wouldn't. 

She tried. 

Failed. 

Wanted to try again.

Do it right.

Taking another breath, she knocked.

The door swung open within seconds and the breath left her as strong arms picked her up. "Ma! You're here!"

Sixteen. Henry was six-goddamn-teen and he could already lift her up like she weighed nothing at all. "Kid," she rasped, forcing the air back into her lungs. "Ribs."

Regina appeared behind him as he laughed and set her down. "Emma?"

"Hey." She smiled sheepishly, more uncertain of herself now that she was faced with having to ask. "I uh…"

Never mind a bad idea. It was stupid. Stupid stupid st—

"Come in," Regina said, her own smile soft— genuine, maybe even a little fond if Emma squinted and just… hoped, really hard. "You're letting the cold in."

She flushed and quickly entered the house, letting Henry take her coat. He snatched the beanie from her head and pulled it over his own, grinning. "Wow, this is warm."

"Duh." She grinned back, her chest warming with affection as she ran her fingers through her hair. She looked up and caught Regina watching them with a smirk, and the affection only grew. "So um, sorry to intrude—"

"You're not intruding," Regina interjected, giving her a look. That it was the same look she'd given Henry made Emma bite her lip, the silent duh bouncing around in her head. "Join us for dinner?"

Swallowing the urge to decline out of courtesy, Emma nodded (a little more vigorously than she intended, but it got her an even bigger smile, so whatever). "I'd love to."

"Good." Regina turned, beckoning as she led her to the kitchen. She paused before the doorway to address their son. "Henry, be a good boy and set the table."

He groaned but did as he was asked (a good boy, just as Regina claimed), kissing Emma on the cheek before he hunched his shoulders and clomped his way to the dining room. Emma chuckled after him, always amused by his theatrics. It reminded her a lot of Regina whenever she didn't get her own way and went from being the former Evil Queen to full on Drama Queen. 

"He gets that from you," Regina mused as if she'd read her thoughts and needed to set her straight because she was wrong, and Regina was right. Always. And forever.

Emma snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Regina clucked her tongue and continued into the kitchen, gesturing to a stool where Emma immediately sat. She felt like she was unknowingly trained at some point, but around Regina, she'd found she didn't really mind the feeling. It made her feel as though her presence was actually wanted and that— that was exactly why she'd come.

"Can I… ask you something?" Back to her as she stirred something in a pot on the stove, Regina hummed. Emma sniffed the air a moment and groaned, forgetting herself for a second in favour of savouring the aromas surrounding them. "What are you cooking?"

Regina laughed and peered at her over a shoulder. "That's your question, that you made sound oh so serious, or is this another case of your stomach ruling you in place of your brain?"

Cheeks warming, Emma wrinkled her nose. "I'm kind of making it a point to ignore my brain today," she confessed, not entirely sure why but not— not against sharing the truth of the matter. 

"Dare I ask why?"

She nodded, expecting it, and looked out through the kitchen window. She wasn't against the truth, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with it. Six years. In the face of life-threatening danger, she had the courage of a lion. In the face of Regina Mills, she was the damn gazelle; twitchy, ready to bolt at the first sign of teeth.

"Our… arrangement," she began, eyes flicking to the apple tree to avoid turning her gaze on Regina like she wanted. "With the kid, I mean. I— it's not working for me anymore."

Movement from the corner of her eye alerted her when Regina turned. She didn't need to look to picture the rise of a perfectly sculpted, more than capable of deciphering the tone Regina delivered a guarded, "Oh?"

"I like that we're his parents," Emma continued. She missed Neal sometimes, but deep down, she'd known all along that if he'd survived, he'd never have been apart of this. "I… love that we are— that you let me be. I don't like— I hate that we pretend not to be the family we are."

She did look then, needed to know if Regina understood what she was trying to say. She doesn't regret it like she thought she might. Regina was staring at her with this softness in her gaze and it was enough. The expression was worth all the discomfort in the world, even if that meant the tears gathering in her eyes would eventually lead to her sobbing pathetically there in the kitchen of the woman she needed.

Wanted.

Loved.

Exhaling loudly, Emma rubbed at her face and shook her head. "We decided four years ago how it would be…" 

She got Henry for Thanksgiving because she had the bigger family, and Halloween because it was her favourite and Regina wasn't into dressing up or encouraging the unhealthy consumption of too much candy like Emma was. Regina had Easter because it was Henry's favourite, and Christmas because it was tradition. It was good— great even, until it wasn't.

She hated it. She hated pretending not to feel like something was missing when a holiday rolled around and she was stuck playing happy family with her parents. She hated showing up on Regina's doorstep twice a year and seeing the sadness in those eyes when Regina told Henry to have fun and behave for her.

More often than not, she felt like they were the divorced lesbian mommies' cliché without the actual marriage that came before, and the worst thing about it was Emma knew without a doubt, were there an actual marriage, she'd never be stupid enough to let Regina go.

"I hate it," she whispered, head bowed as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I hate that without you and Henry, I feel alone on Christmas. I hate that you have to sacrifice your time with him, that you hurt every damn time I take him from you."

"Emma." Her head snapped up, as the voice sounded from right beside her. She opened her eyes and turned her head, meeting the watery chestnut gaze as Regina cupped her cheek and said, "This was never supposed to be permanent. When we agreed to how Henry split his time between us, I thought— well, I thought we were friends. I thought that, with time, we would come to some new agreement, one that worked for the both of us when we eventually decided this wasn't enough."

Her heart soared but at the same time her stomach dropped because Regina didn't understand. Emma pulled away from the hand and sighed. "I don't want an agreement, Regina. I want you. I want Henry. I want us to be a real, proper family who spend the holidays, and every other day, together. Every single year for the rest of our lives."

She expected surprise, bordering on shock. Maybe irritation, or the anger Regina often used to mask her true feelings, whatever they happened to be. Instead, she was given a smile, one that lit up Regina's face and somehow made her gaze feel impossibly warm. 

The shock was hers when Regina reached for her again, gripping her jaw tight in long, slim fingers. "I've always been here," she replied softly, brushing a thumb along her lower lip. "All you had to do was show up."


End file.
